Since Christopher Gallant released his first full-length album, Ology, last April, artists ranging from Elton John to Skrillex have praised the dynamic LA-based singer.
Gallant, who simply goes by his last name, is solitary by nature and admits he has trouble writing with other artists. Along with disliking the feeling of having someone read over his shoulder, he is wary of becoming a caricature of himself in an attempt to impress his collaborators – to fulfill their ideas or expectations of who or what he is.
But Gallant aims to develop his craft even if it means working with others, especially if the likes of Elton John come calling. “I do really want to focus more on collaborating. I think it’ll be hard for me to create another album with something that pulls me apart from that act of being alone… but I do think there are tons of other capacities in which collaborating with people who have a very equal part could be really inspiring and motivating.”
Gallant also hesitates to work with others because his lyrics are so personal that he sometimes feels embarrassed by them. But having performed his songs for so long has boosted his confidence in showing his vulnerabilities. “I have been able to become more comfortable with things that I have been used to keeping inside… Being able to say a lot of these lyrics in front of a bunch of people watching is an exercise in being more confident and more comfortable and accepting every aspect of humanity.”
The impact Gallant’s surroundings have on him is clear. Claustrophobia permeates his brooding debut EP, Zebra, which he wrote during his time at New York University. Sunny, spacious Los Angeles gave rise to the vastly more vigorous Ology, on which he intimately wraps ‘80s and ‘90s R&B and rock with silky smooth, feather-light sheets of electronic tones and leaps to Olympian heights with an untouchable falsetto.
For an artist who is heavily influenced by his physical environment, it was imperative that Gallant learned to get comfortable with the stage. A performance like his stunningly animated spot on The Tonight Show last May can be mentally taxing for a self-described introvert, but Gallant says it only amps him up.
He has spoken at length about his transition from New York to LA, so when I broach the topic, his answers spring forth instantly. He has criticised New York’s culture of “blind ambition,” of aspiring musicians who fill every second of every day with “something meaningless.” What are some examples of such “meaningless” things? “People just loved to do meetings,” he snaps right away. I imagine him straightening up in his seat on the other end of the phone, poised to strike. “They loved to talk about meetings.” He encountered too many people who seemed exclusively focused on chasing success instead of creating anything that was personal or meaningful. “They weren’t really looking to build anything. They were just looking to have something. It’d be like going on Twitter and buying 10 million followers.”
Gallant is also quick to clarify his past implications that LA is less competitive, less cliquey, and home to more real, “true” people than New York. “I think LA is probably worse. But you can’t get a second to yourself in New York… You’ve given up your freedom, and you’re allowing other people to navigate you in this ant farm and this maze.”
Having grown up in the suburb of Columbia, Maryland, Gallant is accustomed to having personal space. LA’s sprawl offers him solitude whether at home or just a short drive away. Even the city’s notoriously clogged freeways provide him with time to meditate, transforming his vehicle into a Zen centre on wheels. “Even the act of getting in your car and driving every day is psychologically enough to start to put back together the pieces of your individuality.”
Gallant relocated to LA with his best friend from college, and many of Gallant’s friends from Maryland, whom he’d known for up to 20 years, had already been living there. “It was really easy for me to move there and make it a secondary home,” he says of his transition.
His music team grew more slowly than his social network though, but it grew naturally nonetheless as he gradually befriended people who worked in the industry. “Once I completely rejected the whole notion of music as a career, it seemed like it just started [for me].”
On Ology, Gallant delves deeply within himself to understand every emotion and reaction he’s had to his life experiences thus far. But four months following the album’s release, Gallant still has not arrived at any definitive answers. “It’s very experiential. I don’t know if I could even write a list, but I definitely feel the way I’ve changed. Everything feels a lot more exciting; I feel a lot more open. All my values seem to be more together than in the past. And that feeling alone is enough for me to keep going.”
Through deep introspection and by sticking to his convictions, Gallant now finds himself teetering on the brink of breakthrough success, confirming his values in the process.
The meaning of Jazz Cartier’s Fleurever is rooted in duality. In the two years since his sophomore mixtape, Hotel Paranoia, the artist has had to “[battle] the balances of love and money, risks and rewards, right and wrong, or living and dying”, alongside coming to terms with the throes of wealth and fame. Subsequently Fleurever—or, as he calls it, his “third project”—explores Cartier’s personal growth in the years following. With his newfound maturity in tow, Toronto’s rising rap star is on course to start a music revolution—well, that’s the idea anyway. Georgie caught up with Cartier to talk about gratitude, the rapper’s personal transformation, and the driving force behind Fleurever. G—Can you tell us a bit about your latest album Fleurever and the inspiration behind it? JC—Most of the inspiration came from growth, and a bit from my departure from Toronto. A lot of the record was made in my last days in Toronto, and just having that cloud over my head and knowing that I’d be leaving soon—it was more so showing my affection for the city that pretty much shaped my sound. G—Did you have a vision in mind when you started writing this album? JC—For the most part Fleurever is just myself and my
When asked to describe herself in three words, Nina Nesbitt didn’t hesitate. “Introverted, creative, and driven”. While you wouldn’t guess the former from her edgy, empowering tracks—her latest single “Loyal To Me” is a girl-power anthem, rallying women to ditch their unfaithful partners—the latter two can’t be questioned. In the six years since she was discovered in an unplanned encounter with Ed Sheeran, Nesbitt has released three EPs and one full length album; toured with Sheeran, Justin Bieber, and U.K rapper Example; and carved her way into the alt-pop scene with a harmonious blend of groove and grit. Earlier this year, the Edinborough-native was one of three emerging female artists chosen to partake in Spotify’s “Louder Together” initiative, recording the first collaborative Spotify single (“Psychopath”) with Sasha Sloan and Charlotte Lawrence, and showcasing her signature style of thoughtful messages pulsating atop hook-driven melodies. With her sophomore album ready to drop, Georgie spoke with Nesbitt about her experience being thrust into the spotlight and maintaining her creative independence throughout it all. G—You’ve been touring a lot this year, specifically in North America. How have your North American audiences been receiving your shows? Is it different than performing for UK audiences?
Named for the Toronto area they grew up in, The Beaches are a far cry from a placid day on the lake. Led by singer/bassist Jordan Miller—with her sister and guitarist Kylie Miller, guitarist/keyboardist Leandra Earl and drummer Eliza Enman-McDaniel—the Canadian four-piece burst out of Toronto with their 2018 debut, Late Show, and have since built up an aura of dissident swagger. Taking home this year’s Juno for Breakthrough Group of the Year, the all-fem rock quartet is bringing grunge, gloss, and 70s glamour to a predominantly male genre. Georgie caught up with Leandra to talk about the band’s latest music video, taking charge of their music, and three simple ways to keep women in the industry. G—Did you grow up together in Toronto? LE—Yeah, I met the girls in high school. Jordan and Kylie are sisters, so they’ve known each other a bit longer, but they grew up with Eliza in Toronto’s Beaches area. G—What kind of music were you listening to at that time? LE—We grew up listening to all of the music our parents listened to. That definitely influenced us while writing our debut album since we drew from a lot of the 70’s music that our